The flight of a butterfly, the death of an angel
by Beloved Princess
Summary: Did CR-S01 really mean it when he told Albert that he hadn't resented him? Did he ever learn his actual name? Was Rosalia always so sad? Oneshot.


"Let this disease…" Resurgam's finest surgeon otherwise known as CR-S01 said to no one in particular, words trailing off at end. "… pass from the world." Soft grateful applause from his assistant, Tomoe, was heard from behind him. The now-stabilized patient was being taken away by two nurses. Hank patted him on the shoulder with a rough hand, a friendly smile sliding across his face.

"Great job, Doctor." He commented, Tomoe nodded with the same comment and quickly flitted out of the operating room with her "creepy-ass ninja skill" as Gabriel had nicknamed her… talent. CR-S01 raked his fingers through his untamed locks and begun to place his operating tools into a glass bowl sat on the operating table: scalpel, forceps, suturing needles. Hank also left, leaving him to silence as he put away the metal surgical tools.

He felt this as a "déjà vu" but his patient had looked exactly like Rosalia.

Blonde hair, pale skin, a bright smile…

Yes. He had a lot of female patients with blonde hair and fair skin yet she just seemed so familiar to him.

Like Gabriel's young son, Joshua she had Wermer's Syndrome. Despite being in such piercing pain and vomiting some of her blood as Gabriel examined her she kept smiling!_ Smiling_! He wondered how she perfected that smile…

He's losing focus.

She had that glint of happiness and relief in her eye when he knocked her unconscious with the jab of a syringe. She was taken away after he completed the operation. But he wondered…

As he deposited two syringes in the bowl, a voice, feather-light and sugary echoed in his mind. It brought him a slight twinge of pain as his hand caught the operating table for support.

"_Christopher_…"

Christopher?

Was that his name? He didn't actually know his actual name but it seemed… close. His mind was wiped clean from that _incident _in Cumberland College. So he was usually called by his prison number or "doctor" by the staff and patients in Resurgam.

"_Christopher_…_ can_'_t you hear me_?" The voice inquired, still as sweet as sugar and as quick and gentle as the flutter of a dove's wing.

His head begun to throb more violently as his fingers wrapped around the table. Was he supposed to respond? But if it would stop the pain he would do whatever it takes.

"_Is that_…_ my name_?_ Who are you_?"He inquired of the girl.

"_Good_."She replied, almost to herself. "_Thank you for answering_,_ Christopher_."

The pain slowly but surely withered away and he sighed, shutting his eyes in relief. As he reopened them, the room became blurry. Everything shifting and wobbling as if trapped in a tornado. He stumbled and reached once more for the table as he fell to his knees – whole body growing limp, his hand went to his forehead and he collapsed onto the lineouem floor.

"_I_'_m so sorry for this_…"

When the surgeon finally opened his eyes, he was met with a variety of wild flowers. They blew in the breeze and colorful petals drifted lazily through the air. Monarch butterflies sailed through the air and landed onto the blooms. The pain was no longer as he gazed around curiously. The sun pointed its golden rays onto the rainbow of flowers. It was almost like a scene out of a fairytale.

But that wasn't the question.

"Christopher!" A girl cried from behind him. He looked to see… _Rosalia_.

Rosalia?

Rosalia!

She didn't look much different from her picture. Flowing blonde hair that billowed in the wind like the tail of a comet, pink eyes as radiant as an amethyst. Her dress twirled around her legs as she ran, feet bare, smile so bright.

She came forward and her arms instantly ribboned around him, embracing him with her head nuzzled into his chest. He wondered if she paid any attention to his speeding heart.

He watched her in silence, arms not going around her because of this whole mirage. Breaking his silence, "R-Rosalia?" She must've sensed the waver in his voice as she looked up at him with her face flushed and released him.

"Sorry, I just haven't seen you in a while." Rosalia answered. "What an embarassing reflex. It's been so long, Christopher."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked, eyes growing wider and redder.

She looked confused and her eyes also grew round. "It's… your name. I guess, you don't remember, huh?"

He shook his head. "No, sorry."

She nibbled on her lower lip. "Oh. I'm sorry… are… are you still mad at Dad?"

Dad? Maybe she had meant Professor Sartre? Since he was her father… "Do you mean Professor Sartre?"

She looked up to the cloudless blue sky and her pink eyes grew confused. "Um, yes. But please don't be mad at Dad, Christopher. He didn't mean to do such terrible things to you! He always told me about the terrible things he'd done… but he was sad and didn't mean it!" Her eyes shined with a bit of moisture and she shut her eyes to quell the tears just for them to fall from her closed eyelids. She turned her head and bit her lower lip harder.

Words of Maria swum through his mind. "_Crybaby Rose_…_ she was so small and always so sad_…"

More tears formed and it took him a moment to realize that he was still standing there doing nothing, he kneeled beside her and before another tear had fully grazed down her face, he caught it with his finger and her eyes flickered open. She looked up at him, confused. "I don't resent… your father."

She sniffled. "Y-You don't?"

He looked back to her. "No, I don't." Her eyes glinted with happiness and tears once more formed and streamed down her cheeks, shoulders trembling with sobs but yet… she was smiling. She lunged forward and her arms went around his neck, her knees crushed some flowers as she hugged him tighter.

"T-T-Thanks so much, Christopher…" She murmured with that loving smile. "Thank you."

He was silent and before he knew it, one of his arms had gone around her, pulling her close. "You're welcome."

She gave him once last affectionate squeeze before…

…he was back on the floor of the operating room with someone's hand on his shoulder. He looked all around, vision becoming less misty with each second and saw Gabriel beside him with confused ochre eyes tinted with concern, and his hand went away from his shoulder."You okay kid? You been out for a bit."

The red-eyed surgeon nodded. "Yes, it's nothing. Thank you, Doctor Cunningham."

Gabriel smiled and the worn cigarette slid to the side in his mouth crookedly. "Don't worry 'bout it. Good thing you woke up in time because there was gonna be surgery here and if Esha saw her best surgeon out cold that wouldn't make her too pleased."

CR-S01 climbed off the floor and looked to see his surgical tools all collected in the bowl. "S-Sorry, Doctor Cunningham…"

"Like I said, don't worry about it." Gabriel assured with a gesture of his hand. He looked to the doorpost and saw two guards waiting there. "But your _friends_… seem to be waiting for you." CR-S01 looked over to the doorframe and saw them waiting, seeming impatient. "I think you better get going…"

"Okay." CR-S01 said with a nod. "I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor Cunningham."

Gabriel held out a hand to wave. "See ya, kid."

As he went into the hands of the guards, one guard tripped and fell to the floor, face-first. The second guard reprimanded him with crude words.

The echo of a bell-chiming giggle floated through his mind and he couldn't conceal a smile.

* * *

**Wow. What do you think of my first attempt at my first Trauma Center story? I really like Rosalia since she is such a cutie and so innocent I just attempted in writing her. I feel as if CR is a bit OOC, I would really wanna attempt to write more of little sibling stories of Rosalia and CR.**

**Maybe I'll try to do it again but I'm getting a bit tired. ^^**

**'Yay' for CR and Rosalia-ness! :D**

**EDIT: Fixed up some grammar errors and a few mistakes. I use variations of ****_look _****a lot.**


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